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Authors: Cathy Maxwell

All Things Beautiful (9 page)

BOOK: All Things Beautiful
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Julia came awake with a start. Disoriented, it took her a moment to gather her wits. Brader! She’d fallen asleep. Had he come to his room without her noticing?

She tightened the belt of her robe, picked up a candle, and turned the handle on her door. The
hallway was quiet, the candles snuffed. She tiptoed on bare feet to her husband’s room and knocked. No answer.

After knocking again and receiving no response, Julia steeled her nerve and opened his door. The light of her candle showed his bed still made up. The clock chimed one.

He wasn’t in his room. Where could he be? What if he’d left for London? Julia fought down the panic. Not tonight. He could not leave tonight. She hurried down the hall to the staircase.

The candles on the chandelier in the downstairs main hall had been put out. No light, save the small glow from her candle, relieved the darkness of the stormy night.

The bile of bitter disappointment welled up inside her. She marched down the stairs. How dare he leave tonight! And without saying so much as a by your leave.

Julia stood holding her candle in the dark of the large foyer, staring at the door. Outside, the quiet rain of early evening came down harder. Wind and rain hit the front door with force and Julia wondered what man in his sane mind would travel in these elements. In answer, there was a clap of thunder, followed several seconds later by the momentary flash of lightning, which flooded the foyer with white light.

Mentally, she wished him back. Demanded him back!

Her shoulders sagged in defeat. Again, Brader
Wolf had managed to evade her. Dear God, all I want is a baby, Julia prayed. Is it wrong of me to want something in my life that will make me feel needed and loved?

With a sigh that echoed in the darkness, Julia turned to go back up the stairs to her room. At that moment, she saw the light spilling out from under the study door.

Her heart stopped. It had to be Brader. Who else would use his study at this hour of the night?

She blew out her candle and placed it on a hallway table, not wanting to be seen if Hardwell still worked with Brader, and yet she could hear no voices.

Her bare feet trod silently on the carpet toward the light. At the door, she leaned her forehead against the cool wood and pressed the door open gently with the palm of one hand.

Brader sat jacketless, working on a stack of papers by lamplight. Ledgers, books, and more stacks of documents sat waiting for his attention. He’d untied his cravat. At some point, he’d run his hands through his hair, tossing the curls. So intent was he on his work, Julia opened the door and took a step into the room before he sensed her presence.

He looked up. The lenses of his gold wire frames reflected the light and shadows of the room, making it impossible for Julia to read his eyes. His jaw tightened. He lifted a suspicious eyebrow. “Julia?”

In answer, Julia took another step to the edge of
the lamplight. She didn’t speak. Suddenly the boldness of what she was about to do almost overcame her, but she forced herself to stand in her place.

“Julia, I thought you’d gone off to your bed hours ago.”

She didn’t trust her voice, nor did she have any idea of what to say. Brader said her eyes mirrored every thought that ran through her mind. Did they now convey her apprehension at what she was about to attempt? Julia forced herself to take another step and stand more fully in the lamplight.

Thunder rumbled, its sound distant in the safe haven of the study. At least, she prayed she was safe. When lightning flashed, lighting the world outside the study window, Julia jumped…but she did not leave.

Brader removed the reading lenses and sat up in his chair. “Your eyes look like they are ready to swallow your face. Has something distressed you?”

Julia knew the moment was now. In another second, her courage would fail her. Lowering her head, almost afraid to see the expression on his face, Julia loosened the tied belt at her waist, lifted her shoulder, and allowed the gold silk to fall slightly off her shoulder, exposing her bare skin.

She heard his sharp intake of breath.

Lightning cracked, this time close enough to shake the house. Steadily, she raised her gaze to meet his. Brader sat still, frozen.

Julia raised her chin. She’d offer herself to him, but she would not beg.

She didn’t have to.

Slowly, Brader rose. His eyes burned, the reflection of the lamplight dancing in their fathomless depths. But the set of his mouth was grim. He walked with measured steps, almost as if he tried to resist moving closer, and stopped in front of her.

Wide-eyed, Julia bent her head back to stare into the midnight blackness of his eyes. Brader lifted one long finger and traced the neckline up to her shoulder with a fingertip, leaving a trail of goose-flesh. She caught her breath and the silk shifted, falling lower, the neckline held in place by no more than the crest of her breasts.

“Julia.” He said her name with the reverence of a benediction. Then slowly, deliberately, Brader leaned over and pressed his lips at the hollow where her neck met her shoulder. At the first warm brush of his breath against her skin, Julia closed her eyes, stretching and arching her neck, offering herself to him. The silk slipped farther, and her naked breasts pressed against the soft cotton of his shirt.

She felt the nibble of his teeth, the burn of his whiskers against the pulse point of her neck. The wariness left her body, replaced by a slow new emotion, one only Brader seemed capable of conjuring. When his tongue touched her bare flesh, blazing a trail from throat to ear, Julia mewed in exquisite pleasure.

Easily, Brader’s hands slipped inside her robe. “I can’t tell where the silk ends and your body begins.” His husky voice sounded shaky in her ears.

She gave a half laugh, not feeling too steady herself, especially when he moved one large hand to cover her breast. His thumb circled and teased her nipple, while his other hand lowered to her waist and pulled her closer to the woolen texture of his clothes, pressing himself against her body.

“Is this what you want, Julia?” The heat of his voice near her ear could have sliced through chilled butter.

A warning went off in what little she had left of her senses. This was the point when Brader always managed to get away. But this time was different. This time he would not escape.

She arched her back, moving closer and surrounding herself with the scent and texture of his body. “I want,” she gasped, “for you to lose control,” sounding none too “in control” herself!

Brader laughed, the rich melodious sign of his pleasure teasing her ear. He sounded like a different man, more relaxed, almost playful. She jumped when he bit the lower tip of her earlobe, gently ordering, “Take the pins out of your hair, Julia. Let your hair down for me.”

Julia hesitated for a moment before reaching her arms over her head and removing the pins holding her hair in place. “And will this help you—”

Her action lifted her breasts up. Brader lowered his head, capturing the rosy tip of one with his mouth, the wet lick of grain against smoothness.

“—lose control?” she finished, on a sigh of surprise and pure pleasure.

At her question, his lips curved into a smile against her tender skin before he sank to his knees, forcing Julia to bend forward. The pins dropped from her hand to the floor. Her hair created a curtain around them. With a soft flick of his tongue, he finished with the breast before placing a line of kisses down her body to the indentation of her navel. His hand untied the silk robe and pushed it away, letting the soft material hang loosely around her.

The rough texture of the whiskers on his strong jaw burned the smooth, soft flesh of her stomach. Julia’s hands encircled his head, her fingers touching and reveling in the feel of his crisp, dark hair. Her body throbbed with a new awareness, a new anticipation.

When he soothed the whisker burns with his tongue, she thought her knees would buckle. Her fingers slipped through the long strands of his hair and curled around his head. She didn’t recognize herself in her cry of anticipation, but she did recognize his voice when he breathed against her skin with a sigh of satisfaction and whispered, “Yes, Julia. Yes. I’m going to lose control.”

B
rader kissed her, then…at the juncture of her thighs. Shocked at his daring, she didn’t know whether to push him away or press her body closer.

He laughed at her gasp of protest. “No?” Rubbing his cheek against the soft dark hair, he promised, “Someday.”

Julia barely made out his words. Liquid fire swirled through her mind, her body, and curled in her toes. When he ran warm masculine hands up the backs of her legs, she trembled.

He rose in one easy movement, lifting her body with him and wrapping her legs around his waist. “I wondered how long your legs were,” he whispered against her mouth before tracing her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.

The tickle of his lips next to hers radiated from her mouth to her breasts. Julia arched against the softness of his shirt, creating new and deeper sensations. Brader gave a shaky laugh and tightened
his arms around her. Kiss after kiss became more and more possessive.

Coherent thought left her. Closing her eyes, Julia swore she’d been born to kiss this man, to wrap her arms around his shoulders. His taste, his scent, his touch: all were made just for her.

She didn’t realize they’d moved until she felt the hard smooth surface of the mahogany desk against her buttocks. Brader broke off the kiss, moving away from her. She mewed in protest and opened her eyes to see him pull the tail of his shirt out of his waistband and pull it up over his head.

His skin shone like bronze satin in the lamplight.

Julia’s hands moved over his shoulders of their own accord, fascinated by the surge and ripple of his muscles. Throwing the shirt across the room, Brader caught her hand and pressed it against his chest. His heart hammered against the smooth skin beneath her palm.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, his voice deep, seductive. Then he leaned over her, lowering her captured hand down to the heavy bulge pressing uncomfortably against the material between his thighs. “Or is this what you want?”

Julia gave the first response that leaped to her mind. “I want you.”

Brader’s eyes flashed with fierce pride and then darkened. He pressed her back onto the desk, his knowing hands stroking and bending her to his will. When his fingers first lightly touched her intimately, Julia shot straight up into his arms with a cry.

“So responsive,” he said, his breath burning her ear and running in liquid heat to where his body pressed against hers. His words inspired in her the strong desire to bend her knees and bring her legs together, but he was there. The inside of her thighs rubbed against his muscled ribs.

Brader lowered his head to her breasts. His tongue kissed and stroked each while his sure fingers slipped between her legs, copying the motion of his tongue.

Outside, the heavens opened wide, the rain relentless and driving, while inside, Julia’s body shook with emotions and feelings she no longer recognized as hers. She, Julia, no longer existed. She became the heat, the desire, the hunger he created in her. His power over her body consumed her. His kisses spoke of an almost savage need, the same need building in her.

Raising his head, his ragged breath against her ear, he ordered, “Touch me, Julia. Touch me.” She responded to the urgency in his voice, her hand sliding over the straining muscles of his back, pulling him closer to her.

Brader shook his head slightly, communicating to her that he wanted something else, something more. Julia didn’t know what he wanted. She could barely think. The sensations Brader’s fingers aroused became more defined, more demanding. Instinctively, her hips raised, pressing her closer to the wet glide of his hand.

Caught in the maelstrom of emotions running
through her body, Julia’s mind created the image of standing on the edge—of what? She didn’t know but her body demanded she find out, her body wouldn’t rest until she found out…and Brader held the secret.

He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, but his hand left her. She dug her nails into his shoulders, expressing her displeasure.

Instead, his hand fumbled at the material of his waistband between their bodies. The soft whisper of cloth brushed against her thighs, to be replaced by the warm contact of skin against skin.

Sliding his hands under her hips, he pulled her body closer to him. Something warm and smooth replaced his fingers, probing the sensitivity between her legs, testing her readiness to accept him.

This was it! His manhood. The blood in Julia’s veins sang. They were going to mate, to create her baby. Emma had said he would know what to do. She pulled him closer to her, kissing him with every fiber of her being. Their kiss grew deeper. She met his tongue with her own. She yearned, she wanted—

In one smooth movement, he thrust deep inside her.

Lightning crashed, filling the room with white light, just as she felt the sharp rip of pain. But the tear of her maidenhead was nothing compared to her shock at the violation of the deepest, most private part of her body! Before she could gather her wits to protest, he pulled out again slightly and thrust back, beginning a rhythm.

Julia’s mind reeled. What was he doing? What were they doing? How dare he do
this
to her? Palms against his shoulders, she tried to push him away but Brader was completely caught up in their joining.

She lifted her hips, her frantic actions pushing his next thrust even deeper into her. This was not the Brader she knew. Gone was the control, the reason. Julia tried to dig her heels against the desk and push herself away from him. Brader groaned her name against her lips, grabbed her buttocks, and slid her back toward him, locking their bodies together tighter.

Julia pounded her fist against his back, her action ineffectual in stopping Brader as again and again he thrust deep and hard inside her. Angry tears filled her eyes. She tried to free her mouth from his without success. Then an idea to gain her release struck her. Without a second’s hesitation, Julia bit the tongue he swirled in her mouth.

It worked.

With an angry cry, Brader broke their kiss. “What the bloody ’ell!” he shouted, sounding for the first time as if he’d been raised on London’s streets.

Julia didn’t waste any time pondering the thought. She scurried in a crab walk out from under him and slipped off the desk, heedless of the ledger sheets and documents that slid off from beneath her. Her chest heaved with unspent passion and self-righteous indignation. The throbbing and
slick wetness between her thighs embarrassed her. “How dare you do that to me!”

“Do what?” Brader shouted in angry confusion. His fingers came up to his tongue to see if it was bleeding.

But Julia wasn’t watching his anger, nor did she care if he was injured. Instead she was mesmerized by her first sight of an aroused male.
That
was what he’d pressed inside her. She curled her lip. It didn’t look too attractive. Protectively, she pulled her robe up her shoulders and around her body.

Brader’s angry glare followed Julia’s gaze to the proud swollen manhood between his thighs. With a colorful oath, he turned and gingerly pushed the jutting flesh back into his trousers.

Julia felt the color drain from her face. Confused, she put her hand up to her head, trying to reason out what had passed between them.

Suddenly, she understood. “That’s it!” she whispered.

Brader eyed her warily. A lock of his thick dark hair had fallen over his brow, making him look rakishly dangerous. “What’s it? What game are you playing now?” His voice shook with anger.

“That—” She could think of no suitable word, so she repeated herself. “That is how babies are made.”

Brader’s eyes opened in amazement. If she’d sprouted two heads, he could not look more incredulous.

Embarrassment and shame flooded through
Julia. Her hand fumbled behind her body, searching for her silk belt on the desk.

“What’s this?” he said to himself, reaching down to the floor for some of the papers that had been beneath Julia when she slid off of the desk. She caught a glimpse of stains on the ledger sheet.

Understanding dawned on him. “Julia, didn’t you know…I mean, you had no idea?” He gave up and, with a growl, roared heavenward. “God! Save me from the stupidity of English womanhood!”

Julia didn’t wait to hear more. Mortified, she bolted for the door, flung it open, and ran barefooted down the foyer toward the staircase. The silk flapped around her, exposing bare legs.

Brader yelled, “Julia!” but she didn’t turn to see if he followed her. She took the steps two at a time, barely holding the edges of her robe together, dashed down the hall, opened the door to her room, and slammed it shut behind her.

With a groan, Julia sank to the floor on her knees. She covered her face with her hands. How could she have been so stupid? She didn’t think she could stand to see Brader’s face ever again. Now he knew her for a naïve fool.

And she could hardly blame him. What possessed her? How could she let him do that to her? She wanted to ring for Betty and demand to have another bath prepared, yet she didn’t think she could face anyone at this hour.

Julia forced herself to rise on wobbly legs.
Enough! she wanted to shout. It was over. It was done. Then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Stepping closer, Julia studied her reflection. She didn’t look any different…and yet her whole life was changed. Her body was rosy where his whiskered jaw had rubbed against her. Her lips were bruised, her eyes still glazed by the aftermath of shock and lovemaking….

Lovemaking.

She and Brader had made love. Julia’s heart quickened. She would have a baby!

His knock on the door was soft, almost a scratch, but it sent an alarm through Julia like a battering ram.

“Julia? Open the door,” Brader’s voice softly demanded.

She didn’t answer. She had no desire to face him. Maybe if she remained quiet, he’d go away.

“Julia.” The voice was more insistent. “Open the door.”

The first time Julia opened her mouth to speak, no sound came out. She cleared her voice and, not trusting herself to say more, answered, “No.”

She could hear him sigh in exasperation. This time, his voice held the silky undercurrent of a threat. “Julia, if you don’t open this door on your own, I am going to enter anyway, regardless of your wishes. We need to talk. Now. Tonight.”

Julia swallowed. Why hadn’t her grandfather placed locks on the bedroom doors? Big, heavy medieval
locks that could hold back the Inquisition—or her husband?

He rapped, harder this time. Julia didn’t wait to hear any other ultimatums. She leaped for her dresser, pulled out a drawer, and scrambled through the clothing for her flannel nightdress, which she drew over her head just as Brader turned the handle of her door with a final, “Julia, I’m coming in.”

The door creaked open just as Julia realized she’d donned her nightgown over the gold silk robe. There was no help for it now. She stood mesmerized by the opening door. Brader stepped in.

Again, she was struck by the sheer force of his presence filling her room. Brader shut the door behind him and leaned back against it. He’d tucked his shirt into his waistband, but the neckline opened to a deep
V.
He looked roguishly handsome.

“Julia.” Her spoke her name as a statement.

She waited for him to say more. She wanted words to cover the sound of rain against her windows and the sense of isolation that they were the only two in the house. But she couldn’t speak. Her hands at her side twisted the flannel folds of the nightdress into knots, but she met his gaze, even if her face flamed in embarrassment.

Brader broke eye contact first. As if deciding that she wasn’t going to invite him in, he walked into her room, started to bend his body to sit in a chair, winced, and stood back up. Frowning, he
walked a step over to the fireplace mantel, hooked an elbow on the edge, and gave Julia a very sour look, blaming her for something—she couldn’t imagine what. If anyone had a reason for complaint, it was her.

Julia turned to face him, not wanting him to see the silk robe hanging out from under her hem. She hated being caught off guard. She felt childish and naïve, a feeling she could never endure. Even steeped in the gossip and slander around her affair with Lawrence, she’d managed to hold her head high.

Unable to meet his eyes, she stared at her toes peeping out beneath the gown.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”

Her cheeks grew several degrees hotter. She raised her head, forcing herself to answer. “I’d never dream of discussing such a thing. Besides, would you have believed me?”

“Last night you admitted you slept with that military man.” His statement sounded like an accusation.

“I did sleep with him.” She leveled an accusation of her own. “But he didn’t do that to me.”

“Julia, I didn’t expect you to be a vir—” Seeing the expression on her face, Brader shook his head, confirming something in his own mind. He asked in a conciliatory tone, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Hurt?” He didn’t expect her to answer that question, did he? There had been pain, but the act itself—what he did to her—it was vulgar. “I
didn’t like it,” Julia stated baldly, fighting a shiver of distaste.

Brader eyed her suspiciously. “Your mother never—? No, I can’t imagine Lady Markham discussing such a matter…but didn’t anyone ever tell you what goes on between a man and a woman?”

“I’m not about to answer such a personal question,” she snapped back with a lift of her chin, determined to hold together what shreds of her pride she had left.

Brader studied her thoughtfully, before answering his own question. “No, I guess not.” He blew air out between his cheeks. “Julia what happened downstairs”—he paused uncomfortably a moment and then continued, flipping his hands back and forth in the air to indicate the two of them—“between us, is natural—ah—between…a man and a woman.”

She didn’t want to discuss this, not with him. As far as she was concerned, he’d schooled her enough! She hid behind her anger. “Don’t talk to me as if I were a child.”

“If you were more of a woman and less naïve, I wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place,” he shot back.

BOOK: All Things Beautiful
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